Realizations
by WayLowHalo
Summary: Companion piece to Restless Nights. Spoilers for Merry Little Christmas. House's thoughts after his OD.


_Author's Note: Hey there, it's me again, back with another story. It's very short, my shortest yet in fact. Spoilers in here for the episode "A Merry Little Christmas" once again. House's thoughts this time, takes place right after Wilson finds House on the floor and walks out and before House goes to see Tritter. Hope you enjoy and please review to tell me what you think!_

Realizations

Lying there in his apartment, a reeking pile of his own vomit beside him, he realizes he has hit an all time low. How did things get this bad? He had had it all under control, his life hadn't been perfect, sure, but he had functioned. As he lay there though he reluctantly had to admit to himself as he turned his head away from his own mess lying beside him, that this however, was not functioning. Not in the remotest sense of the word. Unfortunately when he turned his head it left him staring in the direction that Wilson had walked off in and he sighed, he had felt a stab of hurt at seeing his friend walk away from him.

Oddly though, he found he couldn't really blame him for leaving. Nearly everyone else had given up on him a long time ago and he found that if their roles had been reversed he wasn't at all sure he would have stayed. Wasn't sure he would have ever had the patience to deal with an addicted cripple who couldn't take the time or energy to be polite to anyone and scoffed at all offers of help. He considers these thoughts as he lies there and with a mild feeling of surprise realizes them to be true, and he really does not blame Wilson for leaving. In retrospect he supposes that it is truly remarkable that Wilson had managed to put up with him as long as he had before walking away.

_Tritter_, he thinks, and he flinches inwardly as the name flits across his mind. Everything had spiraled downward from the moment the man had walked into the clinic at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. It was all his fault; things would still be fine if that damn cop had never reared his ugly head. In his current position, though, he realizes that he can't afford anything less than brutal honesty with himself at the moment, and so he grudgingly reconsiders that last thought. Maybe, if Tritter had never shown up he would never have ended up here in the aftermath of a failed over dose, but then just maybe Wilson had been right all along. Maybe he did have a serious problem and maybe he had been heading down this road a long time.

Maybe Tritter's appearance in his life had just speeded things up and he would have ended up in the same place anyway. If so then he may yet be able to turn things around, he thinks to himself, still staring in the direction Wilson had walked out in.

_Wilson. The Deal._

Even now it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Accepting would mean humbling himself. Admitting he had a problem while he was lying on his floor was one thing, but the thought of doing it to another person, _to Tritter_, was agonizing. It would be torture, just imagining the cop's face during such a conversation made his stomach flip with anger and shame. His pride would take a serious blow.

He thinks back on the past three days and on the looming prospect of The Deal. That's how he had come to think of it in his mind. _The Deal._ That hated prospect that he had never wanted to even consider. Now though, he does consider it and he remembers three days ago when it was first proposed to him. He remembers Tritter making himself comfortable in his office, that infuriatingly smug look in his eyes.

He remembers Wilson's face, pleading for him to take The Deal and he sighs. Wilson had meant well when he had snitched to Tritter, this House did know, but jeez, couldn't it have been _anyone_ else? Why _Tritter?_ That's what made it so hard for him to accept. It came from the one person he had come to truly hate.

Wilson's face pleading again. Begging for him to go with him instead of to a night with only pills for company. He remembers brushing past his only friend, leaving him standing in the empty Diagnostics office alone. Now he is alone too; alone on his hard living room floor, a pile of vomit next to his head. _An all time low_, he thinks again.

He truly does have a problem then, and it doesn't matter anymore how he got here, he realizes now, the fact is he is here now and his options have narrowed considerably. _The Deal then_, he thinks resignedly. At this all time low he can't refuse it.

This decision finally made, he groans as he pulls himself up and grabs his cane so he can stand, his muscles creaking after so long on the floor. In his bathroom, after splashing cold water on his face he looks up into the mirror and regards the haggard face looking back at him. Resignation in his blue eyes and he sighs. _Time to go humble himself to the devil._

_fin_


End file.
